Girl's Don't Cry
by danceswithsmurfs
Summary: Clyde Donovan has a secret. It's a secret he's never been able to share with anybody, not even his best friend Craig. But when secrets and identities start becoming revealed, will this change things for Clyde? Short Cryde twoshot, enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

**Hiya :) So this is a fic I've started writing, it's Cryde, and was actually beta'd by someone (for once) so hopefully there won't be any awful grammar mistakes or anything :P There's probably only going to be one more chapter but I haven't started writing yet so expect an update in about a week-ish. Also, if anybody wants to beta anything I write in the future, it'd be much appreciated, just drop me a message if you're interested :) And if anybody reading this has Tumblr and posts, at least partially, South Park related stuff, PLEASE give me your url and I'll follow you, cuz I need more SouthPark blogs to follow :P**

**OH, and thanks for reading my story :D Reviews always welcome, Enjoy :D**

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><p>'...And that is how you find the median gradient of two intersecting parabolas.' My math teacher, Mrs Johnson, drones on and on. But I don't hear her. I'm too busy staring out the window, looking at two birds outside. The way they glide so effortlessly through the air, twisting around one another, it takes me out of the dull, stuffy math classroom, making it impossible for me to focus on anything else. I don't know my birds particularly well, but If I had to guess, I'd say they're sparrows. All I can do is to not burst into tears right then and there at the incredible display of Mother Nature's beauty that I'm witnessing. Flying, swooping, twirling around one another, gliding all over the place, but never straying from the other's grasp, the two birds dance in the clouds, like two eternal loves set free from the bounds and chains of this world. The two creatures, so full of the power and wonder of life, rising up from the earth into an eternal angelic existence built entirely around one another. They land on a tree branch and the slightly smaller bird tilts it's head and snuggles up in the feathers of the slightly larger one, whispering affections and perfections into each other's ears, with a heavenly connection only found between two people entirely and wholly in love.<p>

_Damn it_, I think to myself. _Why can't I have that with someone?_

All of a sudden I jolt back to reality as something hits the back of my head.

'Ow...' I say, though it doesn't really hurt. Turning around, I see a piece of paper scrunched up, and on the floor behind my desk. Well, that and the blank face of Craig Tucker staring directly at me.

Craig is my best friend; we hang out together all the time inside and outside of school. When people think of Craig, they also think of Clyde. Or when they think of Clyde they think of Craig, it works both ways I guess. It's just because we're always around each other. Him and me weren't all that close in Elementary, the only time we ever would hang out would be when Token and Tweek were there, meaning him and me were never spending any real amount of time together alone. That changed, however, when we were 12. In fifth grade Tweek had moved away. His Dad's business had run into the ground, Tweek's bullying was getting ever-worse, so his parents decided to just up and move, a completely fresh start. I think they moved to Wisconsin or something, I'm not sure. So that left just me, Craig and Token. By then, things between Craig and me were slightly better. We would often walk to and from Token's house together, and because of his pool and massive television, we spent most of our weekends there, meaning we also spent a lot of time walking together. Then one night changed everything.

* * *

><p><em>'Hey dude, you almost here?' I asked down the phone. Token was due at my house any minute, along with Craig. I'd rented the original Star Wars trilogy, bought a lot of popcorn, and the three of us were going to have a sleepover.<em>

_'Yeah, uhh, I can't come Clyde.' Token said, hurriedly. I could hear a lot of commotion in the background, somebody screaming in what seemed like pain, somebody else screaming with what seemed like surprise._

_'W-What? Why not? What's going on, Token?' I demanded._

_'My mom's going into labour, dude! We've gotta get to the hospital!' He yelled, evidently freaked out by what was happening. To be entirely honest, being the innocent 12 year old I was, I hadn't even known she was pregnant. I just presumed she'd gotten fat._

_'Labour? You mean you're having a brother?' I was in shock. 'B-But what about Star Wars? Me and Craig can't be alone all night, it'll-'_

_'Clyde, I gotta go, I'm sorry!' He said and promptly hung up. I was left sitting on my bed with the dial tone held up to my ear. I felt like crying._

Me and Craig can't be alone together, not for a whole night_, I thought to myself__. I mean, sure, we were friends, but not really. Token was the one that held our little g__roup together. Without him we were just two socially awkward kids stuck next to each other._

Oh God, _I began to feel a mini panic attack coming on. _Oh no, me and Craig, this is going to be a disaster! He'll realise that we aren't friends and then he'll stop talking to me and then so will Token because of that an-

_My internal crazy-rant was interrupted by the sound of somebody ringing the doorbell. Craig. Fuck._

_I jumped off my bed and stuck my ear up against my bedroom door, listening as my mom let him in and told him that I was waiting upstairs._

_'Thanks Mrs Donovan.' I heard him say in that monotonous tone of his. Then came footsteps, the door handle turning, and I only just managed to jump out the way in time, hitting my shoulder on the floor, before the door swung open and Craig Tucker stood before me. I looked up at him in the same blue hat he always wore, the same blue jacket and with a sleeping bad under one arm. My eyes began welling up with tears at the pain that was throbbing in my shoulder. I tried not to cry, I tried as hard as I could, but it was no use. Before I knew what was happening, a river came flooding out as I sat on the floor bawling. Craig just looked alarmed. He'd never seen my cry before and had no idea what to do. So he stood awkwardly at my door for a minute, before warily making his way over to my bed and sitting down._

_'U-Uhh...Where's Token?' He asked._

_'H-He's n-n-not c-coming.' I spluttered. Craig nodded slightly in acknowledgement and carried on sitting silently, not sure where to look or what to say. He waited another few minutes, before realising that I wasn't going to stop crying any time soon, then said,_

_'Clyde, are you okay?' I could tell he was uncomfortable, but being in such a state, I didn't particularly care. Standing up shakily and walking over to the bed next time him, I just about managed to get the word 'Yes.' out, but it was obvious that that was a lie. Craig sighed heavily, then saw the Star Wars films lying on the ground. He walked over, picked one up, and slid it into my dvd player._

_'C'mon, we'll watch a movie, that'll help...I hope...' The last part was muttered under his breath so that I couldn't hear it, but I did anyway. Shuffling along on the bed, I made room for Craig and he jumped down next to me, stretching his feet out. As the movie started, I mentally noted how much taller Craig was than me. Following his actions, I stuck my feet out too and they barely made it past his knees. Still shaking slightly, with only a few tears rolling down my cheeks now, I nudged up closer to him and leant me head down on his chest._

_'Dude, what the hell-' Craig tried to put up some vague sort of resistance, but seeing how bad a state I was in, he just sighed disapprovingly and let me stay there. I still remember how his heartbeat felt against my ears, in perfect timing with the Star Wars theme tune. That made me giggle slightly, and before I knew it, I was perfectly happy again, sitting upright and deep in argument with Craig over who would win in a fight – Darth Vader or Yoda. As any chance of the evening being as incredibly awkward as I'd thought it would became nil, our argument became so intense that we didn't pay attention to the first film in the slightest. After A New Hope we went downstairs and ate pizza, drank lemonade and argued a little bit more about Star Wars. We then went back upstairs again and watched The Empire Strikes Back. For the whole of that film we did silly impressions of the characters on screen, causing each other to burst out in fits of hysterical laughter. Finally we watched Return of the Jedi, eating popcorn and throwing it at the screen and booing whenever the bad guys came on. Within the last half hour of the movie however, we were entirely out of popcorn, and because it was late we were both a little sleepy. Craig had moved into his sleeping bag on the floor by this point and I was under the covers in my bed. Then, we turned the volume of the movie to low and spent about an hour chatting and gossiping about people in school, who liked who, comparing girls, stuff like that._

_'So who do you think Kenny will go out with next, Craig?' I yawned, eyes drooping with tiredness. There was no response. 'Craig?' All I could hear was his slow breathing. Leaning over, I could see him fast asleep, eyes shut tight, chest moving up and down rhythmically. For a few minutes, I stared at my sleeping friend, happy at how the evening had gone. Then I began to think about Craig...How hopefully, we'd be closer now. I started realising how much I _wanted _to be closer to Craig. How much I loved just watching him sleep. And that's when the realisation of how I felt hit me._

* * *

><p>'Dude, what?' I mouth silently, unsure why Craig had threw that paper at the back of my head. Then, I notice something. How...Quiet everything is. Shifting back to face the front of the class, I notice that everybody has stopped talking and is turned, facing me. I can feel as all the blood rushes to my head, my cheeks turn bright red, and I look up at Mrs Johnson. Her beady eyes are glaring over the rims of a pair of devil horn glasses, down her long, thin, pointed nose, directly at me.<p>

'Clyde Donovan, feel free to start paying attention any time you please.' Every word is spoken meticulously, with a hint of malice, and I know she's being sarcastic. Sarcastic in the mean sort of way that teachers are when they get mad about something. I groan, knowing full well that this means I'll have to-

'Stay behind after class.' She snaps.

A couple of kids snigger, but after a sharp look from Ms Johnson, they promptly shut up and everyone gets back to working. I wait a few minutes until the volume level is at a suitably low murmur and Mrs Johnson is typing something or other on her computer before turning around to face Craig.

'Nice one.' He smirks.

'Shut up, Craig. Oh God, that was so embarrassing! Now she's going to give me a detention, my parent's will kill me!' I whisper, frantically. Craig's always tells me that I worry too much, that I let little things bother me way more than they should, that I'm 'far too uptight for a fourteen year old'. But then, he also complains that I'm the opposite; I get excited and overly-happy at the smallest of things, such as finding a penny, waking up on Friday, dreading school, and then discovering that it's actually Saturday, or whenever I see a movie with Leonardo DiCaprio topless in it, which is surprisingly often (But that one I'd never tell Craig about).

As I'm having a mini panic attack, Craig simply chuckles to himself and gets back to quadratic equations, not wanting to induce the wrath of Mrs Johnson and earn a detention himself. I quickly realise that this would most definitely be a bad thing and turn back to face the sheet of meaningless numbers and letters on my desk. They fill the page, countless squiggles, all with some sort of hidden meaning that I feel I should get but just don't, like they're all collaborating and leaving me out, laughing at me in the process.

_God, I hate math._

* * *

><p>'A-And then she yelled at me!' I moan, trying my hardest to hold back the flood of tears that I can feel brewing inside of me. 'She t-told me I'm worthless and that i-it'll be a wonder if I d-don't fail her class.' It gets harder and harder with every breath.<p>

'Dude, she's just a stupid math teacher.' Craig sighs, kicking a stone as we walk down the street toward our houses. One perk of living next door to your best friend (Whether or not Craig admits it, we are, in fact, best friends) is that you always have somebody to walk home with. That is, when Craig isn't sick, or pretending to be sick. Which is a lot.

'I k-know but I-' Suddenly it gets too much and my eyes become wet. Craig glances at me for a second and sighs once more. Our friendship has gotten to the point where I can cry in front of him without it being awkward or embarrassing, though I'm not sure if that's because we're megaclose or just because I cry too often.

'Come here.' He mutters and, slightly unwilling, grabs my hand with his, intertwining my cold, shaking fingers with his warm, gloved ones. Craig has always been incredibly physical-contact-ophobic, never being near a person when he doesn't have too, which means no hugs, no leaning my head on his shoulder when I'm tired, no falling asleep at his feet. The only exception is when I'm crying. He suddenly seems to feel compelled too hold my hand if we're in public, pull me into a half-hearted hug if we're at one of our houses, or occasionally, if it's night time and I'm sleeping over at his house or he's sleeping over at mine, he'll let me sleep under the covers next to him. I still don't know why Craig acts like this when I'm upset, but whenever I ask, I always get the same jokey answer:

'My parents always taught me to comfort a girl when she's crying.' Usually, this makes me giggle a little, ever so slightly lifting the clouds of anxiety and despair within me.

After a couple of minutes, I sniffle and lean my head against his shoulder, the water works having been reduced to virtually nothing, and whisper,

'Thank you, Craig.' He looks down at me with a completely blank expression, as ever, and whispers back,

'Lift your head up. I don't want people thinking that we're, you know, _like that_.' That phrase stings a little bit, but I quickly oblige, not wanting to annoy or anger him at all. The rest of the walk back home is silent; me recovering from my small outburst, and Craig just trying to get back to his room, the place where he spends about 99% of his free time, as fast as he can. And yet despite his worries about people thinking that me and him are '_like that_', his constant looking around for any kids we might know and hurrying past those we do know when we pass them on the streets, he still keeps a tight grip on my hand the whole way home.

* * *

><p>'Mum, I'm home!' I yell, not knowing where she is but hoping that she'll hear me, and run straight up to my room. I instantly walk over to my desk and switch on the computer that sits there. Usually, I'm not such a loser that I go straight from school to computer to bed, but recently I've started spending more and more time online. Why? Because of redracer505.<p>

The morning after Craig and I watched Star Wars, I'd woken to the dreaded knowledge that yes, I do, in fact, like Craig Tucker. My friend. Who is a boy. My initial reaction was to freak out. Like, _completely_ freak out. I spent a good part of the day crying, because I was scared of accepting myself as anything other than normal (And normal, at that age, meant straight), because I didn't want Craig to hate me, or my parents or anybody else really. In the evening, my Mom came into my room, concerned. She knows that I'm a crier, but even for me, this particular crying spurt had lasted quite a while. She sat me down and made me tell her what was wrong. Of course I lied, made up some story about having too much homework or something stupid like that, but I realised then that things couldn't go on like this. I couldn't hate myself, or any part of who I am, because hating myself makes me cry and crying makes people worry and ask questions, which I did not want. So that night, after everybody else had gone to bed, I sat down in front of my computer and spent about an hour googling pictures of boys and girls, some deliberately sexual, some artisticy, some just normal shots. I made myself look at all these different photos, all these different people, and judge how much I liked each one. My plan was to find out for definite that night who I was attracted to so that I could start accepting that, to stop any future crying over this matter. And of course, I did. I found myself more curious over picture of guys than pictures of girls, generally more willing to look at those photos. So after that night, I made the decision to forever more identify as being gay.

Calling myself gay didn't make any difference to me, especially considering the fact that I didn't tell anybody, so for about a year and a half, I all but forgot about it, only occasionally pretending I liked girls when my friends talked about their crushes, and stealing the odd glance at Craig every now and then in gym class. About 5 months ago, I was on the internet, when I came across a chatroom website. Everybody had started using chatrooms, they were 'cool' for some reason, because we'd been told about pedophiles online and apparently it was funny to lead on pedophiles and take photos of the conversation. So while I was looking for a pedophile to talk to, I saw that the website had an 'LGBT chatroom'. And simply out of curiosity, I clicked the link and suddenly found myself surrounded by people just like me. The young people that were confused, and the older ones gave advice. It was through there that I met redracer505. We'd started chatting and discovered that we were both 14 year old boys who liked other boys. For safety's sake we decided not to share our real names or where we lived, but despite that, redracer505 somehow grew to become my secret Internet boyfriend.

As Safari opens up, I quickly type in my username, tac0mast3r, and wait eagerly for redracer505 to come online. I have to wait only a few seconds before a chat box pops up.

**Redracer505:**

Hey Tacoman, you there baby? Xx

**Tac0mast3r:**

Yeah, hey :) xx

**Redracer505:**

Spent all day thinking about you :P how's your day been? Xx

**Tac0mast3r:**

I was thinking about you too 3 my day's been all right... Could have been better :/ How about yours? xxx

**Redracer505:**

Aww, what happened? :( Mine was boring, nothing interesting ever happens where I live, haha Xx

**Tac0mast3r:**

I don't wanna talk about it. xxx

**Redracer505:**

Okay, but I'm here if you do, babe :) Wanna hear a funny story? :P Xx

We carry on talking for another half hour or so before he says he has to go, something about his mom dragging him out shopping. After he's gone offline, I walk over to my bed, put some music on and lie back, eyes shut, thinking about how awesome it would be if I were to ever meet my internet boyfriend, how we could start dating in real life. Everything would be perfect then because I wouldn't need anybody else or want anybody else-

Then my phone vibrates.

_Craig Fucker calling_

And my stomach turns summersaults

And I can't stop grinning.

'Clyde? I need your help with something...'


	2. Chapter 2

'And then she was all, "let's move this up to the bedroom." So we went upstairs,' Kenny McCormick grins mischievously as he tells yet another one of his hook up stories. 'And, well, you guys know the rest.' He winks as everybody else laughs, Stan gives him a high five, and I try my best to pretend like it's the best thing I've ever heard, like how the others seem to be reacting. I'm sitting in the school cafeteria with the group of people I hang out with now. I say 'people' rather than friends because, well, they're not all necessarily what I'd class as a 'friend'. It used to be that it was just me, Craig and Token, and I was perfectly happy with that, but then Token became a typical teenager and realised how perfect his house is for parties, and started having them, massive, legendary parties/ This made him, by any high school standard, popular. Other people started hanging around him more often, and therefore hanging out with me and Craig too. For a short while, me and Craig would leave the others with Token and it would be just the two of us. I loved that, having Craig all to myself every day. But before too long, Craig started staying with Token and his new group of friends, becoming friends with them too. This I wasn't happy about, but I put up with it because it was the only way I could be around Craig, and if I didn't I would have nobody to talk to, and that would suck big time.

This new group consists mainly of me, Craig, Token, Kenny, Stan, Kyle and Butters. Admittedly they're not the worst people I could be forced to be around. I mean, at least Cartman isn't there, that's always a plus. It's not always just the seven of us. Due to Token's new status in the school, there's sometimes be a couple douches trying to talk to him, find out when his next party is, or girls hanging off his arm, desperate for him to ask them out. Token knows they're only after his money, but he isn't the sort of guy that dated. Nobody has quite ever figured out why, but he just claims that the simplicity of one night stands is better than having to be tied down with a girlfriend. At least him and Kenny had something to talk about.

Being the typical teenagers that they are, and male teenagers at that, all of my new 'friends' have a tendency to talk about girls, girls and nothing but girls. So I'm constantly having to pretend to like girls, laugh at their stories, occasionally make up some bullshit ones of my own. But I do whatever was necessary to be around Craig.

'Dude, sweet!' Kyle says, responding to something Token had said that I totally wasn't paying attention to.

'Clyde, you in?' Token turns to me and I feel their eyes on me. Being completely clueless like this, everybody staring at you, waiting for you too say something, anything, when you have no idea what's being asked of you... Well, it makes you feel kind of dumb.

'Uhh, w-what?' Is all that comes out of my mouth.

'Party at mine tonight!' He smiles. 'We're gonna get you laid, dude.' I freeze. He's going to... Get me laid? I mean... Well, yeah, all the guys here knows I'm a virgin, but they've never seemed too care about that before. Why should they suddenly start now?

'Yeah, we were talking about it and decided that it's time you got a girl, and I know the perfect chick.' Stan says, raising his hand over to a different table where a group of girls are sitting. 'Bebe Stevens.'

I still don't say anything. My mind is racing, trying to come up with some sort of excuse, any excuse, to get me out of going to this party tonight. But under the pressure, I draw a blank.

I realise that they're still looking to me for my reaction. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Just a strange stuttering sound. I take a minute to breath deeply, trying my hardest not to burst out in tears, because that would be the worst possible thing too do.

'I, uhh... Ummm, I mean, uhh... Y-Yeah, that's, uhh... This is g-great, guys.' I manage to say, sounding like a complete idiot. Kenny snickers slightly, but the others ignore it and simply start planning among themselves how this is going to be pulled off, leaving me entirely out of the conversation. I look desperately too Craig, hoping for him to say or do something to save me. His head is tilted downwards and I notice he's not joining in with the other guys and their planning, but he doesn't look in my direction either, just stares glumly down at his shoes. If my panic attack levels weren't dangerously high right now, I might be more concerned about this, but I have more important matters to deal with.

'I, uhh, I g-gotta go.' I stammer, and turn around quickly, immediately walking off before anybody can say anything. My hands are placed firmly in my pockets as I walk towards the door, planning on finding somewhere quiet that I can be alone to sit and think, logically, how to get out of this, and hopefully to stop the panic attack that I can feel rising in the pit of my stomach. I only manage to get about 20 paces, however, before I feel a hand clamping down on my shoulder. By this point, I'm within arms length of the door, so I open it and rush out before turning around to face whoever's behind me. To me surprise, it's Kenny.

'K-Kenny?' I say. My voice is shaky and I hope that he doesn't notice. Me and Kenny have never really talked before. I mean, I know Kenny's a player and everything, he can get any girl he likes, or guy for that matter, and has never had a serious girlfriend, but most of the time when we're with the other guys anyway, he doesn't say much, just sits back and watches and listens. Observing.

'So, Clyde,' He says slowly, in a tone that scares me slightly. It's not exactly aggressive, but menacing, or something. I don't know, I'm not an expert of what different tones of voice mean, but I sure as hell don't like the sound of this one. 'Looking forward to tonight?' He smirks.

'Uhh, y-yeah, sure.' I lie, my eyes flying all over the place, looking anywhere but at him. I'm still unsure why he's talking to me, but I hope that he'll leave me alone without making me say much.

'Bebe Stevens, huh? Good girl, she knows what she's doing.' He winks at me. 'If you know what I mean.' I did. Bebe isn't smart. She never does very well in any of her classes and I'm pretty sure the only reason she was never held back a year is because her parent are rich and can afford for her to have tutors. There are rumours, I don't know how true they are, that she has an older sister, quiet a bit older, who dropped out of high school and is now an addict, or single mom in a trailer park, or homeless, or died of alcohol, or in prison for dealing drugs, depending who you listen to. The generally accepted theory, though, is that Bebe's sister was a fuck up and her parents are desperate for Bebe to be different, to make something of herself. Well, so far they've not been doing terribly well. She has a bad reputation as a slut, and if you have a party, she'll be there.

'Umm, y-yeah, Bebe...' I say quietly.

'Do you think she's hot?' Kenny's eyes narrow, searching my face as I answer.

'Uhh, w-well, ye-'

'What am I saying? Of course you don't, you're gay!' He says, deliberately loudly. So that's it. That's why he's talking to me.

'W-What? No I- I mean, I'm not- I-I've never-' Kenny laughs as I break down in front of him.

'Dude, come on, it's obviously.' Suddenly my face goes red and I gasp in shock. Kenny grabs my forearm and pulls me away from the cafeteria doors.

'Oh God! I-It's not, is it?'

'Well, not to those idiots. But to a keen observer like me? Yeah. It is.' He says in an evil sort of way, and I know he plans on using me somehow. This is _not _good.

'W-What do you want, Kenny?' I'm getting slightly scared. By now, we've wandered from the cafeteria and are a reasonable distance away from any eavesdroppers, to my relief.

'I can get you out of this.' He smiles menacingly, reaching a hand out and stroking a hair out of my eyes, which makes me feel uncomfortable. He sees me squirming and chuckles to himself.

'H-How?' My eyes begin to blur slightly, but I wipe them on my sleeve and force myself to keep calm, so I can hear out his proposal.

'They plan on getting her drunk, so drunk she can't stand, then shoving you, alone, in a room with her. I could simply wait in that room until it's just you two, then...' He searches for the right words. '_Take care_ of her while you wait. After, you go out and tell people you did it. Bebe will be so drunk that she won't remember, they'd all congratulate you, I get a fuck. It's a win-win situation for everybody.' That's Kenny's plan. I have no idea why he's being so nice to me, the guy who's usually such an unsympathetic, uncaring jerk, but as long as he helps me then I don't really care.

'A-And you w-wouldn't tell?' I say, still close to tears.

'Of course not, darling.' He leans in close to me as he says this and I can feel his breath against my cheek. I shut my eyes nervously but force myself not too react. 'I get something I want, why would I go and spoil that for myself?' I don't say anything. My eyes still closed, I don't know quite what he's doing until I feel him lean in, press his lips softly against my cheek and kiss for me a second. 'Think about it.' He whispers, then turns around and walks away. After a moment, I open my eyes, just in time to see him stepping back inside the cafeteria. Suddenly I feel the tears coming, but I can't control it anymore. My eyes get wet, in an instant my cheeks are wet too, and then I'm running towards the bathroom, hands covering my eyes, desperate not to be seen.

* * *

><p>'CLYYDDDDEEEE!' I hear the young and excited voice of Bret Black shriek, rising and lowering in pitch with every thumping footstep, before I've even closed the front door. He runs over to me at full speed and charges into my legs, wrapping has small arms around my waist, hugging me hard.<p>

'Bret! Hey 'lil man.' I reach down and ruffle his hair. He lets go of me and starts bouncing up and down on the spot like some midget on steroids. I can tell he's been eating sugar.

Bret was born when me and Token were 12 and I think he's about 4 or 5 now, I'm not entirely sure. He's a spitting image of his brother though, only with a bigger mess of hair. The hair was new.

'What's up with the flop, dude?' I say, playfully flicking a couple locks which are almost shoulder-length. He laughs, jumping over-excitedly from foot to foot and says,

'I'm growing it, to get dreadlocks!' He says this in a way that is evidently meant to impress me, and the grin on his little face is adorable. I turn to Token who's still standing by the front door after letting me in.

'You have the _coolest_ little brother.' I say, smiling at my friend. I'm not even lying. Craig's sister, Red, she's a complete bitch to me whenever I see her, stereotypical moody teenager, even though she's only just 13 or something. Kyle's 'brother', Ike, was officially named a genius a couple years back and he turned pretentious and douche very quickly. Nobody else really has any siblings, or younger ones. Well, there is Kenny, but his sister Karen is so shy that it's practically impossible to even catch a glimpse of her. That and because Kenny is too embarrassed about his house and never invites anybody there, not that I'd go to his house anyway.

I turn back to Bret and kneel down, so that I'm at his level. I don't know why, but he's always taken a shine too me. The rest of Token's friends he couldn't care less about. But apparently I'm awesome, and that's something I'm not going to question.

'So what are you gonna be doing this evening?' Bret opens his mouth wide, all ready to shout out a hyped-up response the way small children do, when at that moment, his mother walks through one of the many many doors in this place, scooping her son up in her arms.

'Well, hello there Clyde.' She smiles warmly at me. Token's mom has always been very nice, especially compared to other people's parents, like Kyle's mom. She's so relaxed, never grounds her son, let's him pretty much do whatever the hell he likes. And for that, everybody loves her.

'Hi Mrs T.' I say. Looking at her now, the first thought that comes into mind is that, since she is so rich, surely she can afford a stylist? Or, you know, anybody to tell her when she looks awful? Her lips are an exuberant red, like the colour of blood or something, and her dress looks like a dinner suit that's been converted into a skirt at the bottom. It's bright pink, and I mean _bright_ pink, with black lacing around the edges, and wearing it, she looks more like cake frosting than a person. But I don't say anything.

'You look lovely.' I lie through my teeth. I've gotten good at lying, through many years of experience. 'Any plans for the evening?'

'Well, Steve has booked a table for us at _La oiseau d'amour _for dinner, then we're spending the night at a romantic couple's hotel together.' I see through the fake smile plastered on her face, into her eyes, the look in them that says _I'm having sex tonight and I know it_. This makes me laugh, but I try my best to turn it into a sort of 'aww' noise, making it seem like I give a crap. To be perfectly honest, I don't know what the hell _La oiseau d'amour _is, I can only presume it's another pretentious wannabe-French restaurant that charge $100 for a glass of water, the sort of place Token's family consider trashy.

'I'm just off to drop Bret at the babysitters, then going to meet Steve. We're going straight out so I'll see you two boys tomorrow.' She waddles over to where Token is standing, in her million-inch high heels, Bret still in her arms and whining about wanting to stay and play with me and Token. Leaning down, Token's mom kisses him on the forehead, making him go bright red with embarrassment, and whispers something or other about being sensible and responsible tonight, which everybody knows isn't going to happen.

I make my way up to Token's room while he says goodbye to his mom, jumping onto his king-sized bed and letting out an overdramatic sigh of relaxation, just as the bed's owner walks in.

'Clyde, c'mon, we gotta go get the booze out the basement.' He tells me, completely unsympathetic to my desire to sleep in a comfy bed for a change. My eyes close and I wave a hand lazily in his direction.

'Yep, be right there.' I don't have to look at him to know that he shakes his head disapprovingly, tutting, before leaving. Evidently, getting the alcohol set up for the party is more important than entertaining his ex-best-friend. I might care if it weren't for the simple fact that daaaamn, this bed is the most comfy thing I've ever touched. It feels like lying down on a cloud!

I shut my eyes only for effect, and to get out of carrying heavy crates of beer and bottles of whatever out of Token's basement, but now I'm starting to feel slightly...Uhh...Sleepy...

* * *

><p>'Ow!' I yell as something hard bashes against my side. My mind jolts into action and I wonder where I am, what's happening.<p>

'Hey, what the hell... Somebody here?' A gruff, hazy, male voice calls out. Before I know what's happening, there are hands feeling up my legs and over my body. One hand finds it's way up to my face and prods around my nose and mouth, before it's intoxicated owner evidently decides that I am, in fact, a person and not a pile of coats or something like that.

My eyes fly open. It takes me a minute to realise that I must have fallen asleep. It's dark outside and I can hear the loud beat of music playing downstairs, along with drunken screams and cheers. All signs of a house party. Standing over me is Kenny McCormick, with some chick form the year below that I vaguely recognise hanging off his arm. I mean, literally hanging. By the looks of things, she's drunk so much she can barely stand. The girl is small, a redhead, dressed in clothes that look like they were designed for a baby and don't leave much to the imagination. Her face is covered in make up, but by this point in the night, has been smeared all over her face, evidently from sucking Kenny's face. To be honset, I doubt if she know's who Token is, or where she even is.

'K-Kenny?' I venture, hoping that it is actually him and not some total stranger trying to fuck on top of me.

'Clyde? Oohh, heeyy duude!' He slurs. It's obvious that he's already wasted.

'Wh-What are you doing, Kenny?' I rub my eyes sleepily and look over at the alarm clock next to the bed.

_23:30_

Good, at least I haven't missed too much of the party then.

* * *

><p><em>The general itinerary for a house party, especially one of Token's, is as follows:<em>

_9pm: Most guessed start arriving_

_10pm: Music playing, people have beers, catch up with friends, have a good time_

_11pm: People who had pre-party drinks arrive, everybody else is tipsy, some people are usually hammered, such as Kenny's ...Friend._

_12pm: Everybody's drunk, other than 'designated drivers', who try to leave around now with their drunk friends. Nobody likes being sober around wasted people._

_1am: Guests start leaving, a few passed out in various rooms._

_1:30am: This is when most of the drunken throwing up happens, due too drinking too much or sticking your tongue down the wrong person's throat._

_2:30am: Almost everybody has left. Whoever remains is either unconscious or in a drunken haze, all in a small group together, listening to music, or upstairs, doing god-knows what._

_4am: The last few conscious people go to sleep._

* * *

><p>All things considered, making my entrance downstairs at 11:30 isn't too bad. Most of the guy's, the ones who have 'plans' for me tonight, probably won't have even noticed my absence yet.<p>

'Kenny, what are you doing with...' I pause, waiting for him too fill in the gap.

'Linda!' He says triumphantly, though I'm not exactly sure why, after several moments of searching his brain.

'I-It'ss Melllissssa!' She moans, pushing herself off Kenny's shoulder, where she was resting, in an attempt to stand upright. She instantly falls to the floor and groans. I wait for Kenny to pick her up, but he just stands there, looking at her with glazed eyes. Within seconds she's snoring, and I take that as my cue too leave, dragging Kenny out with me.

'You're supposed to be with Bebe tonight, remember?' I hiss quietly, so that no one can hear. This isn't necessary though, the music is so loud I can hardly hear myself, and it's a wonder how Kenny manages to make out what I'm saying.

'Uhh...' He searches his mind blankly for a moment, before striking gold. 'Oh! Oh y-yeah! Bebe!' Kenny says, jumping up excitedly. After a second, he slumps back to the floor, blocking the middle of the corridor. I'm trying to take him downstairs with me to where Token, or Craig, or anybody I recognise is, and had, up until his collapse, resorted to dragging him by the sleeve. If I was really determined, I could probably have still dragged him along the floor, but that would require way too much effort. 'Yeeahhh, Bebe's doinnn' itt wiiith Toooken.' He says, still slurring his words like crazy, arm stretched out and pointed to a door. There's a very small chance that Token and Bebe are behind the specific door, he points too and a very large chance that Kenny simply pointed at the first door he saw for emphases, but I get his point.

'Awesome.' I smile, happy that I won't have to pretend to have done anything so icky as... Well, as Bebe.

'Y-Yeahh.' Kenny says. He's crawled against the wall of the corridor and is now propping himself up against it. Despite there being no friendship whatsoever between me and Kenny, I decided, due to his recently charity towards me, to sit down next too him for a little while, keep him company. Almost as soon as I've sat down, Kenny reaches over and places his arm around my shoulder, leaning right up to my face. His drool falls onto my jacket and I edge slightly further away.

'Whichh leaveees uss freeee to d-do whateever. Wee. Waaantt.' Up close, I can smell the stench of beer on his breath and it makes me feel sick. I stand up, involuntarily pulling Kenny with me until his arm loses the grip it has on my shoulder and slumps too the floor as well, presumably, or hopefully, just as unconscious as Linda, or Melissa, or whatever her name is.

'Whatever.' I sigh and make my way towards the steps that lead down to Token's living room.

* * *

><p>'C-Craig?' My voice sounds hoarse and brittle. It feels worse.<p>

'Hey dude.' He replies in that monotonous tone of his. The light hurts my eyes so I keep them closed. Craig's typical blue hat was all I could make out in the second I had them open. My head is pounding, it feels like somebody dropped a ton of bricks on me. And my throat is sore and dry, but I know that I'm likely to just throw up any water that I drink. Hangovers are a bitch.

'W-Where are we?' I know we're not still at Token's, I can smell it. There isn't any stink of booze or vomit or piss or sex. The air smells clean. It smells like Craig's room...

'You're in my bed, dumbass.' He replies. I rub my eyes warily and drag myself upright, putting up with the pain that light causes. Looking around, I see that he's right. I am in his room, on his red racer bed sheets, surrounded by his mess of dirty clothes, caged in by his pale-blue walls.

'W-What am I-'

'What are you doing here?' He interrupts. I don't know whether he sensed how hard it is for me too talk right now or simply doesn't want to hear my hungover voice, but I hope it's not the latter. 'You came downstairs, sat next to Butter's all night and did about 3 times as many shots as anybody else. When I left, I saw you stumbling about in the bushes, pissing. I couldn't leave you or take you back to yours, so I stuck you in my bed.' He tells me. I mutter a thank you of sorts and groan some more, stretching lazily. I want to curl up and go back to sleep, but being in someone else's bed and house, I know that that's not an option.

Craig is sitting at his desk, typing rapidly on his computer. I can vaguely make out the title of some Word document, _The Theme of Love in Romeo and Juliet_, the essay I was supposed to have handed in yesterday and haven't even started yet, and I realise that Craig mustn't have drunk anything last night. There's no way anybody could be hungover and this awake and alert at-

I twist round, trying to find a clock, or anything that'll tell me the time. Craig looks over at me.

'Half past 4.' He says, reading my mind.

'Half 4? Fuck, I slept for ages!' I cry, and instantly begin worrying. My mom will be wondering where I am, I'll get in trouble for not calling or something. Ugh.

'Yeah, I didn't wanna wake you.' Craig says, turning back to the computer and typing. I lie back on his bed, head resting in my hands, and sigh. The two of us stay there like that for some time. Craig typing and clicking all over the place, every so often referring to his copy of the play and jotting down notes, and me lying there, eyes shut but still awake, listening to everything going on and waiting until I feel okay too move.

Eventually, the clogs in my mind slowly start turning, and I come up with a question. I can hear the whirring of a printer as Craig prints out the finished essay.

'Craig?' I ask, not looking to see if he's still in the room or not.

'Yeah.' He is.

'You handed that essay in all ready... Why are you redoing it?' It's a fair question. I mean, Craig's never been much of a genius, but he's certainly not an idiot. There's not way his first essay was so bad that he was told to do it again.

'You haven't started it, right?'

'U-Uhh, well, I..Uhh...' I stutter, embarrassed.

'Exactly.' He says, and I feel something hit me stomach. I open my eyes and see the essay that Craig just wrote lying on top of me.

'I'm taking a shower.' He says and leave the room before I can react. At the top of the essay is written: _A Study on Shakespeare's Portrayal of The Theme of Love in 'Romeo and Juliet', By Clyde Donovan_.

Craig wrote an essay for me? I pull myself upright once again, this time going further and actually getting out of the bed completely. That's when I realise that I'm shirtless. Maybe I took it off while drunk, or maybe I threw up on it and Craig took it off... The idea of Craig taking my shirt off is enough to give me butterflies in my stomach, and I quickly push the thought out of my head, not wanting anything embarrassing to happen while I'm alone in his room.

Wandering over to Craig's desk, I see all the notes and scattered bits of paper lying there. I skim-read a couple, but none of it makes sense to me. I only read half the play and I couldn't understand a single word of it.

I look up at Craig's computer and take a seat in front of it. Opening up Safari so I can check my email, I notice a page already open. It's that website everybody used to use when we were younger to talk to pedophiles. I always thought that I was the only person that still used it for my conversations with my secret boyfriend, redracer505. Apparently Craig still uses it too.

I click about on the site for a little bit before getting bored. It's not a very interesting website too go on, so I decide to quit it and check my email like I'd intended. But just as I'm about to cross off the page, something in the very corner catches my eye.

A little box with several different buttons. One says 'Log Out', one says 'Preferences', and one says 'My Account: redracer505'.

I stop and stare. Redracer505. Craig. Craig Tucker. He's logged in as redracer505. But that means...

Suddenly I look up somebody walk into the room. To my relief, and surprise, it's Craig.

'I forgot a towel.' He says, but I don't hear him. I'm frozen, just looking at his face, in complete disbelief.

'Clyde?' He shakes a hand in front of my face jokingly. 'Clyde, are you okay?' I get up and walk towards him, still without saying word. I walk forward until I'm millimetres from his face, until I can feel his breath pushing against mine. He doesn't take a step back. Leaning my head forward even more, I press my ears against his lips and whisper,

'Let's go take that shower.'

* * *

><p><strong>Heya :) So if you've survived down to this point, congratulations, I guess :P And thanks for reading :) I don't really like this story much... But then, I never like any of my stories :L And I'm sorry if the first and second chapter don't seem much like the same story or anything, I wrote them both in very different mindsets and quite far apart from each other. But yeah, Thanks for reading it, hope you liked it, commentscriticism is always welcome :)**


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